Author. 




Title. 






Imprint 



Jfi— WETO-1 opo 



AARON BURR 



DEAMA, 



IN F=" O U R A C T S _ 



(DEFENTHY WRIGHT) WILLIAM MINTURN. 



Copyright 1878, by WILLIAM MINTURN, in the Office of the Librarian of 

Congress, at Washington. 



New York: 

Metropolitan -To:: Print, No. 28 Ann Street. 

18 7 8. 



AARON BURR 



DRAMA, 



IN F"OUR AOTS_ 



(DEFENTHY WRIGHT) WILLIAM MINTURN. 



Copyright 1878, by William Mintubn, in the Office of the Librarian of 
Congress, at Washington. 






New York : 

Metropolitan Job Print, No. 28 Ann Street. 

1878. 









T5 £.yn 



c 
oO 



£ 



CHARACTERS 



AARON BURR 

GENERAL WILKINSON 

HARM AN BLENNERHASSETT 

DOCTOR BOLLMAN 

BARON BASTROP 

NEMO 

ZEKIEL GREEN • 

SAMBO 

PADDY 

CHAPLAIN 

GAMBLER 

SOLDIER 

MESSENGER 

ALICE LEIGHTON 

MARGARET 

MRS. BLENNERHASSETT 

PATIENCE GREEN 

Soldiers and Guests. 



AAEON BURR. 



.A.CT I. 



SCENE I. 

Burr's Library at Richmond Hill. Fire Place with fire, etc 
Elegant and substantial furniture. A life-size painting of 
Hamilton. Pair of pistols on mantel, 

(Sa7nbo discovered arranging room, etc., L ) 

Sambo. Dar's somethin' gwine wrong in dis yeah hou^e, shua 

Mas' Aaron aint de same man dat he was — Ebber since-he done 

dat shootin' dat ebbery pusson's talkin' 'bout, he hab a face as long 
as a funeral percession, an' he talk to hisself 'till dis niggah tink 
he gwine stark, bodily naked fool, shua. Dar yest'day mornin' I's 
done ketch him stannin' jest here, dis way, wid one obdem shoot- 
in' machines in one hand, an' den he say somethin' under his bref 
like, an* den he shoot away at dat ar picture ob Mas' Hamilton 
tell he make a half dozen holes clean through and through. I's a 
plain, straight-sided ole niggah, I is, an' I wont stan' no sich 
foolin' like dat. I jist hab to git Mas' Aaron a talkin' to 'bout it. 
Den he hab a lot ob strange gemmen come heah an' talk an' talk 
an' talk all night instead ob gwine to bed. I's a cute niggah, I is, 
an' I jist know somethin' gwine to happen. Things aint right — 
min' what I say {at window L.), sartin' shua, when dis niggah 
mak' his min' up— why, who's dat jis dumb ober de garden wall ? 
I speck I better jist go out dar an' take a look 'round— folks don't 



6 

come into a gemmen's garden dat way 'less dey means bissness. 
I's a cute niggah, I is, sartin, shua. 

( Going R. ) 

Burr. ( Without L. ) Sambo ! Sambo ! 

Sambo. (Stopping.) Dat's Mas' Aaron. 

Burr. ( Without. ) Sambo, you black rascal ! 

Sambo. Here I is. I's comin', sah. 
(Enter Burr in riding trim, with military hat. Cloak on arm. L. 
upper. ) 

Burr. Coming ! Why were you not out by the gate to take 
my horse? Here, take these. {Tosses cloak and hat to Sambo.) 
Take the horse to his stall and return immediately. 

Sambo. (Carefully folding cloak .) Yes, sah ; yes, sah. Dar's 



a man- 



Burr. Well — why don't you do as I bid you ? 
Sambo. Yes, sah — yes, sah ; I was jist gwine to tell you 'bout 
de man - 



Burr. (Impatiently snatches hat and cloak and throws them on 
arm-chair R.J Get out, you jabbering old idiot. ( Sambo to L.) 

Sambo Gwine, sah — gwine, sah. (Aside.) Somethin's gwine 
wrong in dis yer house, shua. 

(Exit hastily L. ) 

Burr. (Solus. ) At last — at last is the dazzling dream of my 
life on the verge of realization ! Already the sceptre and the 
crown seem to me but the baubles wherewith to awe the crowd of 
gabbling fools, and I find myself among the monarchs of this puny 
earth, regretting, Alexander-like, that there remain no obstacles 
to overturn. And, yet, a strange misgiving seizes me at times, I 
know not why nor how, but the pale face of Hamilton ever and 
again obtrudes upon my thought like an evil dream that will not 
be dispelled, bringing with it a horrible presentment of evil, link- 
ing, in some occult way, his fate with mine. What would I not 
give, could I blot from the canvas of my brain the scene of that 
morning ! Will the picture never fade ! Bah ! I'll have no more 
of it. I have far weightier matters to attend to. (Rings bell. ) 
Why should I maunder like an old woman, when the southwest is 



all aglow with the sunburst of my bold enterprise, and the empire 
of the new world bursts into brilliant being, paling the stars upon 
our flag. 

( Enter Sambo L. ) 

Sambo. Did you ring, Mas' Aaron ? 

Burr. Yes. 

Sambo. An' ye want to know 'bout dat mat' dat 

Burr. I expect some gentlemen here presently. When they 
come, show them here and see that we are not disturbed. 

Sambo. Yes, sah. Well, as I was a telling you 'bout dat man — 

Burr. Pack my trunk ; we will start for New Orleans to-night. 

Sambo Lor' — you gwine away so sudden, an' wid dis old nig- 
gah 'long too? Humph ! Well, I see de man a'clombing 

Burr. That's all — you may go. 

Sambo {In desperation. ) He gwine to tief somethin' shua, 

Burr. What are you jabbering about ? 

Sambo. 'Bout de one-armed man dat clomb ober de garden 
wall 

Burr. (Starting up ) A one-armed man upon my grounds. 
When did you see him ? 

Sambo. Jest fore you come in, sah — he clomb ober de garden 
wall an' 

Burr. Have the grounds searched at once and thoroughly. 
If you can find the man, bring him to me by force if need be. 

Sambo. Oh, I'll fetch him. Uis niggah aint no fool niggah; 
l's cute. Ef he don't want to come, bring him anyhow? 

Burr. I said so. Lose not a moment 

Sambo. {Performs antics of punching an imaginary head. ) You 
jest lef it to me — I'll fetch him. 

{Exit L. ) 

Burr. {Restless and concerned. ) He here ! He is my baneful 
shadow. Oh, why did I not kill him when I cut him down ! He 
pursues me with the tenacious hatred of a demon. Who, or what 
he is I have been unable to ascertain ; but that he is in some way 
identified with my destiny I have dreadful reason to apprehend. 
Hatred begets hatred, and that wretch, who has twice sought my 



life, I hate with all my fiery nature — and yet I fear him, too. 
Bah, why should I? What a fool I am — a child, when I should 
be a giant. 

(Enter Sambo L. ) 

Burr. Well, have you found him ? 

Sambo. No, sah, not yet ; aint see him yet — but de gemmen 
you expected is here, sah 

Burr. Show them in. 

Sambo. Yes, sah. 

(Exit Z. ) 

Burr Now has the hour come when I must show my mastery 
of meaner natures, if ever I have mastered in my life. Wilkinson, 
to me, is a plebeian cur, too vain to lead, too ambitious to trust, 
too weak to fear, and yet a useful tool if used with skill. His inter- 
est once secured in my behalf, the army's mine, and the pet scheme 
of my life will be a realization so grand, so daring, so unparalleled 
in modern times, that the world shall reverence with respectful 
awe the name of Aaron Burr ! 

( Sits R. Hastily picks up book of poetry and appears intent thereon as 
Sambo enters L, preceding Baron Bastrop, Dr. Bollman and 
General Wilkinson. ) 

Burr. Ah, gentlemen — quoting the immortal bard — " You 
come most timely upon the hour." 

Bast. It was nearly a toss-up vedder I come at all. Wasn't it, 
Doctor ? 

Boll. Indeed, yes ; but for the Baron's admirable horseman- 
ship there would undoubtedly have been a toss up, in which the 
Baron would have played a very active part. You see, Colonel, 
we encountered a ghost as we entered your grounds ■ 

Sambo. (At back, at window L. Shoivs signs of apprehension. 
Aside.) Oh, Lor' I hope he go 'way from here. 

Burr. A ghost — I thought the age of ghostly perambulations 
had passed away. 

Gen. Not at all, as the Baron will testify 

Bast. I swear I saw a one-armed man jump across my horse's 
nose. My horse see him, too, and rear, but dese gentlemen say 



9 

no — it was but a ghost — and, of course, dey know de country 
better dan I do — so ghost we'll have him. 

Sambo. (Aside. ) Yah, yah! I 'spect Is like to cotch dat 
ghost. ( With air of disgust. ) He aint no ghost. 

Bl'rr. (Concerned.) A one-armed man, did you say? (Re- 
covering.) Ha, ha! Baron, we'll drain a glass to the ghost's 
health. Sambo, some glasses ! 

Bast. Good — j'ai tres froid — pardon, gentlemen, I must speak 
in de French ven I get 

Boll. Like the pig, Faron? 

Bast. How's dat ? 

Boll. Stuck ! 

Bast. Yah, yah, mein herr, ven I get like de stuck pig, and 
forget de English word. 

Birr. Gentlemen, allow me. (Fills glasses.) Permit me to 
propose the health of the most valiant soldier and polished gen- 
tleman within the Republic — General Wilkinson 

Boll. General Wilkinson and the Empire ! 

Bast. General Wilkinson and de ghost ! 

Gen. The compliment is so palpably unmerited, my friends, 
that I fear you jest at me. However, I drink heartily to the new 
country, and may glory ever follow the bold- 

Bast. And may de ghost ever pursue de wicked coward ! 

Burr. ( Facing window at this moment, sees a face (Nemo's) ap- 
pear for an instant. No one else sees it. He turns quickly and glances 
at picture of Hamilton. Starts — trembles — spills wine.) Great God! 
How like ! 

Omnes. What's the matter? 

Burr. Did you not see that face ? {Points to window. ) 

Gen. I did not. 

Boll. Nor I. You are ill, perhaps. 

Bast. Der diefel ! Mebbe he was the ghost. Ha ! ha ! 

Burr. (Recovering himself) Pshaw ! What fools we are to 
allow a thought to ruffle our composure. But come, gentlemen, 
we forget our toast — General Wilkinson and the new empire ! 
(They drink in silence, as though a gloom had fallen on them.) 

2 



10 

Sambo. {At back. Aside.) I guess dis ole coon is gwine to 
ketch de fox dis time. {Darts out L. ) 

Burr. Now to the object of our meeting. {Draws forward 
table upon which are legal documents, pens, ink, etc. ) Naturally, you 
wish to learn the staunchness of your boat ere you push out into 
the stream. You shall be fully satisfied. Here are the grants of 
our territory upon the border — quite enough to found our colony 
and to await the proper time for conquest. This tract belongs to 
me. Then, our worthy coadjutor, Daniel Clark, controls the 
deeds of half the land New Orleans stands on, all of which he has 
embarked with us, while Blennerhasset, the Prince of the Ohio, 
throws all his wealth and influence in the scale, and the entire 
west and southwest are aglow and eagerly await ihe word to follow 

our banner. And here {Searches among papers. ) 

Boll. May I assist you, Colonel ? 

Burr. Thank you, no. I have the details of this business at 
my fingers'. ends. {Selects folded map, spi eads it open over back of 
chair — an exaggerated colored drawing.) And here you see the 
work of our engineers and surveyors, with notes and figures by 
our trusty ambassador, Daniel Clark, taken upon the ground 

Bast. I should tink so — by a poetic artist, in crayon. De 
amber predominate, like an impending cloud which is soon to 
burst and show de sun. Plenty of yellow, which indicates its 
wealth in gold, and some red — de blood of de enemies of our 
scheme. How you like de picture ? Ha ! ha ! ha ! 

Boll. Baron, I'd no idea you were a man of so much fancy. 
Gen. {Looking at map. ) The artist has omitted the green, the 
fertility of the land, without which 'tw r ould be a sterile prize. 

Burr. There is nothing to apprehend on that score. By this 
drawing, we will perceive how readily an army might be led into 
the very heart of the land of promise. To raise that army would 
be the work of but a single word. Like magic, it would spring 
into being. But that word cannot be spoken until we are assured 
of the friendliness of the Republic, that may be secured in one 
way — the influence of the army. General Wilkinson, you will 
understand now why I wish you to favor us. 



11 

Gen. In case of ultimate success, what then ? 

Burr The services of so valuable an officer will merit and 
command a high reward. 

Gex. I may remain inactive — ? 

Burr. Till the moment comes to strike — 

Gen. Then ? 

Burr. You are a soldier, and will know what to do. May 
we rely upon your friendship ? 

Gen. {Deliberately and decisively.} Yes. 

Burr. At the proper time, then, I will send you a letter in 
cipher by the hands of Blennerhasset himself, who will also fur- 
nish you the key. It is from his island the expedition will start. 

Gen. I shall exact from you, gentlemen, the profoundest se- 
cresy regarding my visit here My name must not be mentioned 
in connection with your project. I am to be the dark horse — 

Burr. That carries us to victory, ^o be it. 

Boll. More work and less talk is my motto. You may rely 
on rac. 

Bast. Dat is de correct principle, if dat terminates our piss- 
ness {hesitating for word), I tink I am a stuck pig again. 

Burr. Ha ha ! I understand, allow me to help you out 
{places glasses, etc.) One needs a glass, Baron, to see some things 
with. 

Gen. This time let me propose the sentiment. The new Em- 
pire — new rulers and new morals ! ( They drink ) 

{Enter Sambo L. ) 

Sambo. {Going up to Burr.) Mas' Aaron, a lady want to see 
you, I tole her you was engaged, but she say its 'tickler business. 

Bast. A lady — ahem ! Oh, we're going 

Boll. First exemplifier of neiv morals. 

Gen. Well, Colonel, we will leave you to your pleasanter duties. 
I shall await your letter with impatience. 

Burr. You shall not wait long. Gentlemen, I thank you for 
your visit. Sambo, are the horses ready ? 

Sambo. Yes, sah, dey's all ready, I'll bring 'um to de door. 

{Exit. ) 



12 

Bast. Au revoir, mon cher Colonel. 

Boll. Is she young and pretty ? Ha, ha, ha ! well my bless- 
ings are yours. {Exit with Bast.) 

Burr. (Stopping Wilkinson.?) I rely upon you not only for 
inaction but assistance ; am I right? (Searchingly.) 

Gen I do no half-way service — I am with you to the end. 

(Exit L. ) 

Burr. (Solus C. ) Then the dream is a dream no more, but a 
reality, so brilliant in its great achievement that even I am dazzled 
by its grandeur. And yet, I know not why, in the very ecstasy of 
my delight, a strange misgiving casts a shadow o'er my hopes, till 
I almost doubt my own supremacy. Bastrop was right — it was a 
ghost, and one that will not down ; but what mysterious link there 
is between his pallid face and that (looking at Hamilton s picture) and 
my life, I cannot tell. (Sits R. The lights begin to lower, represent- 
ing the gleaming of twilight. ) How pebbles trip us while we scale 
the mountain peak. Pshaw ! I have grown a girl. I will dismiss 
this idle phantasy. I'll think of Alice, fairest of fair flowers and a 
peerless queen. She shall indeed be queen and reign with me 
o'er my new empire. 
(Enter Margaret, L. , dressed a la Maud Muller. She steals softly 

up behind Burr . Crosses at back.) 
Her smile shall be the solace of my life, and her dear heart shall 
keep forever fresh the kindlier impulses of my nature. Ah, that 
I were sure she loves me as tenderly, as earnestly as Hove her 

Margaret. (Affectiojiately putting her arms about his neck.) She 
does, dearest. 

Burr. (Starting up.) Margaret! You here? I did not speak 
of you ! 

Mar. Not of me ? Words of love— and not of me? Oh, do 
not tell me that — say 'twas I you meant. (Burr paces up and down 
and across to L. C. ) Do not — do not break my heart ! (Falls on 
her knees, with face in hands, sobbing. R. C. ) 

Burr. (Aside.) She has heard too much. I must pacify her. 
(Raises her. ) Yes, dear one, I did mean you. But what brings 
you here, contrary to our compact ? (R. C.) 



13 

Mar. I thank you for that assurance. I knew you could not 
love another than myself — but when I heard you say so it seemed 
as if, in that instant, a black cloud had shut the light out of my 
life ; but now the sun shines again (neslltng), for I know you were 
but jesting with me. Tell me you were jesting 

Burr. Certainly -but you have not answered me. Why are 
you here ? 

Mar. I could not stay away from you any longer. Do not be 
angry with me. The days of your absence hang so heavily on me ; 
and then, when I heard that you were going away and. might be 
gone so long, I could remain no longer 

Burr. Who told you I was going away? 

Mar. You did — didn't you ? 

Burr. I ? No. Why do you ask that ? 

Mar. Because I received a note at my lodging saying that 
Colonel Burr was going away, and it had no name to it, and you 
know all your letters to me are written that way, so that I thought 
it was from you, especially as a pretty bunch of flowers came with 
it ; I've kissed it ever so many times. 

Burr. {Aside. ) So, evidently, I have a rival ; so much the bet- 
ter. {Aloud.) The flowers were not from me. 

.Mar. {Gleefully.) Then you are not going away, Oh! lam 
so glad. 

Burr. Yes, Margaret, I am going away ; I am a soldier and 
must go when and where my duty calls me. But, tut child, you 
should learn to bear separation bravely. 

Mar. A soldier's sweetheart should be near him always in 
the hour of danger. Let me go with you? 

Burr. Impossible, you would be in danger. 

Mar. There could be no danger where you are, and if there 
should be, how sweet, how sweet to share that danger with you. 
Let me go ! {Coaxing.) 

Burr. Undoubtedly, fair mistress, we shall have ladies in our 
train. I must order coaches and luxuries and toilet-tables. The 
ammunition wagons shall carry face-powder. To be sure you 
shall go, dear Margaret. 



14 

Mar. {Bursting into tears. ) Do not trifle with me. It is the 
one wish of my life to be with you always, in safety and in danger. 
I would be your slave. Kill me if you will, and I will kiss the 
hand that strikes the blow ; but do not play with my poor burst- 
ing heart as if it were a bauble of no value. Please take me with 
you, Aaron. I conjure you by the inspiration of the burning 
words of love you have whispered in my ear, to take me with you. 

Burr. {Moodily.) It is absurd — it is preposterous — 

Mar. If you do not, I cannot live. I cannot abide away from 
you. Take rne, and none shall know that I am with you. 

Burr. Indeed ! And how would we accomplish that ? 

Mar. Have you never heard of women in a camp, disguised 
as soldiers ? I would go as aide-de-camp — as orderly — or what 
you will, so that my duties were near you. 

Burr. This is the very ecstasy of folly. I fear, sweet one, that 
such habiliments as you propose would scarcely suit that charm- 
ing figure. 

Mar. (Smiling through her tears.) Nay ! I have tried the ex- 
periment ; and I make so spruce a lad that you could not help be- 
ing proud of me. See ! (She takes Burr's cloak and hat from 
chair and, puts them on jauntily and parades before mirror near win- 
dow — makes salute, etc. — pistol shot, crash of mirror — Nemo appears at 
window, having fired and mistaken Margaret for Burr. ) 

Mar. (Screams.) My God, what's that ! (Turns and catches 
glimpse of Nemo at window with gesture of terror — falls, and is caught 
by Burr.) 

Burr. Help ! bring lights here quick ! speak, Margaret ; I 
have been cruel, heartless to you, speak to me ! 

(Sambo and other servants enter with lights. 

Mar. I am not injured. 

Burr. Thank heaven for that. 

Mar. (Coyly.) May I go with you ? 

Burr. Yes, sweet one. 

QUICK CURTAIN. 



AOT II. 



SCENE I. 

Garden of the Blennerhasset manor by moonlight. House and 
piazza practically opening into garden. Set shrubbery and 
trees, rustic scats, etc. Mr. and Mrs. Blennerhasset enter from 
house, L. 

Mrs. B. My dear, you seem agitated and wearied. You are 
not well, but your illness is more of the mind than of the body. 
What is it ? Let your wife share your thoughts and your troubles, 
as she does your happiness. 

Bl. The happiness with which you dower me, for were it not 
for you I should be a pauper in regard to happiness. 

Mrs. B. You entrusted me the other night with the secret of 
some great enterprise in which you were about to engage 

Bl. Nay ! Not so, precisely — of one in which I was tempted 
to engage. 

Mrs. B. And with Colonel Burr. 

Bl. Yes ; with that mysterious friend and gifted man, who is 
bound, I am sure, to succeed in all he undertakes. 

Mks. B. Then why not embark with him? I will not be 
jealous, for I shall share your glory. Shall I not ? 

{He draws her toward him affectionately. ) 

Bl. It would not be glory if you shared it not. 

Mus. B. Come now, Harman, we have been married too long 
for such pretty speeches. 

Bl. But I am one of those who believe that the successful 
husband is he who always plays the role of lover. 

Mrs. B. Of course, Harman, you mean to his own wife? 

Bl. In this instance, being so divinely blessed, I could not 
mean otherwise. 



16 

Mrs. B. That is real charming. But come, now, tell me why 
you are so depressed and restless. 

Bl. But a moment ago I told you that I was strangely tempt- 
ed to join Colonel Burr in his daring, dazzling scheme. I now 
tell you that I have done so — I am committed to it ! 

Mrs. B. I see nothing so horrible in all this. 

Bl. But I have misgivings — strange forebodings. I feel as if 
my friends had all deserted me. 

Mrs. B. {Putting her hand over his mouth.) Ah, Harman, 
where am I? 

Bl. You are more than friend. Shall I tell you a dream I 
had this evening while sleeping in my library ? 

Mrs. B. Do. 

Bl. You will call me foolish ; but it seemed to me while I 
slept that you and our two loved ones were in a fairy shallop, 
dancing upon the bright waters of a silver lake. Presently the rip- 
pling waves -began to swell, and the fair sky above became over- 
cast ; then a shattered boat neared us, having within it a single 
rower,, and he begged to be admitted into our vessel. As we 
granted his request the storm increased to a tempest, and from a 
tempest to a tornado ; but above the roar of the maddened ele- 
ments rose a clear, fiendish laugh as of exultation ; when, turning, 
we beheld the stranger in our bark had taken the helm, and was 
pointing us out into the midst of the blackened lake ! Lo ! there, 
on its opposite shore, had arisen an edifice more magnificent than 
any I had ever yet imagined ! It was a palace, set with many-col- 
ored brilliants, on whose lofty dome, surmounting all, blazed a 
red, fiery, fascinating meteor. As we gazed, enraptured, a thun- 
derbolt — so fierce, it seemed to shatter the universal vault of heav- 
en ; prostrating all, it swept the brilliant structure down into the 
seething waters of our darkling lake ; then, amidst the blackness 
of eternal despair, I started from my sleep 

Mrs. B. Ah, Harman, Harman ! I do not wonder you were 
deeply moved. 

Bl. Nor was that all : as we sank below the swirling waters, 
our helmsman, assuming a demon's guise, napped his raven wings 



17 

and disappeared with a hideous laugh. It seemed to me pro- 
phetic. 

Mrs. B. Tut, tut ! 'twas but a sleeping fancy after all — dismiss 
it. 

[Enter Alice from house, L.) 

See, here shines a star upon our haven which should dispel 
such gloomy meditations. Come Alice, dearest, your uncle here 
is dull, can you not cheer him with a song? 

Alice. Why, uncle, fie ! you should leave long faces and des- 
pondency to love-sick girls, whose lovers are untrue — Ha, ha, ha ! 
why, look at me, I am never sad. 

Bl. Then I presume you are not a love-sick girl. 

Alice. Ah! yes I am {facetiously sighing,) but, ha, ha, ha! 
my lover is truth itself. 

Bl. You have excellent spirits my dear girl ; but come, the 
song. 

Alice. If you insist. 

SONG. 



FOND HEARTS MUST BREAK. 

Melody — "Happy Moments.'' 

I'll tell a tale of love to thee, 
As old as tale by minstrel told, 
'Tis of a maiden fair to see, 
Who loved a knight both strong and bold. 
He breathed to her the lovers' vow, 
In words that burned as Hecla's breast ; 
And on her blushing cheek and brow 
Impassioned kisses hotly pressed . 

The maid believed, as maids will do, 
In spite of precept old as pain ; 
Her lover was all truth, she knew, 
To doubt would let no joy remain. 
With tears of mingled grief and pride, 
She saw her loved one ride away, 
Soon to return to claim his bride, 
And make amends for love's delay . 
3 



18 

To stranger climes the knight did rove, 
Nor came he back to claim his bride ; 
He breathed the self-same tale of love, 
In many a listening ear beside. 
The maiden watched through weary years, 
The faithless loved one's fond return ; 
But ne'er came balm to stay the lears, 
Nor soothe the breaking hearfs concern. 

Ah, gentle maiden, cease to grieve — 

Nor let thy bitter anguish grow ; 

For ever while love's lips deceive, 

Fond hearts must break and tears must flow. 

Thy lover may not come again, 

Yet is the sky as bright and blue ; 

Birds still their sweetest carols sing, 

And other loves will come to woo. 

Bl. Alice, when you were home last year, did Colonel Burr 
not visit your father's house ? 

Alice. He did, frequently. 

Bl. . And you saw him ? 

Alice. {Looking away.) I had that honor. 

Bl. What do you think of him ? 

Alice. {Confusedly.) Why — why do you ask? 

Mrs. B. Do not be alarmed, dear ; he means, how do you re- 
gard him as a general— a soldier? 

Alice. {Coyly. ) I should say, he were born to make conquests. 

Mrs. B. Indeed ! And has our Alice suffered from the sol- 
dier's skill ? 

Alice. {Still more confused.') Of course, I mean conquests on 
the battle-field. 

Mrs. B. {Stroking her hair. ) Certainly, my darling, young 
girls always mean such conquests when speaking of handsome 
colonels. 

{Enter Sambo, staggering tinder travelling bag, etc. ) 

Sam. Is this yeah house the place whar Massa Blummerhasset 
libs ? 

Bl. I am Mr. Blennerhasset. 



19 

Sam. Oh, you is Mas' Blummerhasset ? Your sarvint {bows.) 
I's glad to see you, shuah ! 

Bl. You are evidently the forerunner of some one. 

Sam. No, I's not ; I's Sam, dat's all, and I's loss my tref, and 
I's mighty tired, shuah {sits on bag. ) 

Bl. But you came from some one ? 

Sam. You're right thar, sartin shuah. The preacher man 
down at our plantation said dat all us niggers come from — from — 
no, it wasn't pork — come from — ■ 

Alice. Ham ? 

Sam. You're right, Missy ; that's it. 

Bl. But who is your master ? Whose luggage is that ? 

Sam. My massa, sah, is de Colonel ; and dis is de Colonel's 
nigger, sitting on de Colonel's luggage ; and mighty glad to sit 
dar, too. I tell you now, dat's so, honeys. 

Alice. ) 

Mrs. B. > What Colonel ? 

Bl. > 

Sam. Why, mas' Colonel Burr ! Is dar any more Colonels 
anyvvhar ? 

Bl. Why didn't you tell us ? 

Sam. Why didn't you ask me? I'll tell you ebberyting. I's 
de most obliginest nigger in de whole worl'. But here he comes 
hisself now. 

{Enter Colonel Burr, in military cloak, hat, etc. ) 

Bl. {Aside. ) His face recalls my vision. His were the very 
features of our demon pilot. 

Alice. {Aside.) Aaron ! How my heart throbs ! I am so 
happy ! 

Burr. I wish you good evening, my noble friend ; and you, 
madame, 'worthy wife of so worthy a man. What ! the fair Alice, 
too ! This is pleasure past belief. 

Mrs. Bl. You are right welcome, Colonel Burr, to our se- 
cluded home ; the more so as my husband tells me you are soon 
to leave our country for a home in the Southwest. 

Burr. Not without my very dear friends, I hope. 



20 

Bl. No, not without us. We shall be your companions in 
the new settlement. But permit us to see to your comfort, Colo- 
nel. Come, my dear. Follow us, Sam. 

[Exit into house, R. ) 

Sam. Yes, massa, I's right wif you, shuah ! [Aside. ) All 
'long dis nigger been want to get to de kitchen. 

[Exit, following Blenn. , R. ) 

Mrs. Bl. You will excuse us, Colonel, for a short time, I 
know. I presume Alice can take care of you in our absence. 

Alice. Maybe not; 1 am told soldiers are hard to manage. 

Burr. They should not be, since they are the best disciplined 
of all men. 

Mrs. B. Be careful that your present deportment proves it. 

(Exit, following Blenn. R.) 

Burr. (L. C.) Alice, to what bountiful good fortune do I 
owe this happiness ? 

Alice. (7?. C.) I knew you were coming here. Oh, I know 
something of your plans. 

Burr. Indeed ! You natter me by taking such an interest in 
my welfare. Pray, what do you know of them? 

Alice. You are going to be an emperor, or something like 
that. 

Burr. Not so magnificent, perhaps, but yet I anticipate a 
grand achievement. Do you wish that I should succeed? 

Alice. ( Somewhat sadly. ) Certainly, I do — but is not ambition 
a dangerous trade? 

Burr. Only to him who falters. The men who grow dizzy 
while climbing are those who fall. One must look constantly 
aloft. 

Alice. And then one forgets constantly those they have left 
below. 

Burr. One never forgets those he would have bask with him 
in the glory above. 

Alice. {Naively. ) What do you mean, Colonel ? 

Burr. We are not yet in the field. Military titles are out of 
place. 



21 

Alice. Then, what do you mean, Aaron? 

Burr. [Taking the hand of Alice.) Need I tell you again how 
devotedly I love you ? 

Alice. Deceiver ! To how many have you professed the 
same ? 

Burr. To hundreds, if you will, but to only one with sincer- 
ity and truth. I look into her eyes now. 

Alice. I fear you ; you are wedded to the army. 

Burr. Cannot Mars bask in the stellar radiance of Venus ? 

Alice; I cannot tell you ; as I understand astronomy, it is not 
a sentimental science. 

Burr. Alice, give me some assurance that my devotion is not 
at least unwelcome. 

Alice. Forgive me if I wrong you, by even for an instant 
doubting your sincerity, but by your own admission you have pro- 
fessed love for many, may not I but swell that list of idle protesta- 
tions. 

Burr. Sweet one, by all my hopes of worldly honor, I swear — 

Alice. Hush, 'tis out of fashion now to love by oaths, but 
as you love me, will you avow it openly ? 

Burr. I will ; I would at once declare my love for you to all 
the world did not circumstances forbid me. Trust me, believe 
me, Alice, and ere long I shall return to you as the richest trea- 
sure of my life — to halo you with a new found glory. There is a 
glorious destiny awaiting me ; it shall be laid at thy feet as the 
guerdon of thy slave. 

Alice. You fascinate me, and yet you frighten me. Why delay ? 
Why concealment ? It is a strange wooing that shrinks avowal. 

Burr. I grant you ; but to woo a princess one needs be politic. 

Alice. You forget, there are none such in this democratic 
land. 

Burr. Thou will be, and you shall be the first. Will you not 
consent to share with me the glory of my conquest ? 
(A pause. Nemo appears behind shrubbery. Starts at seeing Burr. ) 

Nemo. (Aside.) Ha ! ha ! my wily Colonel, I've tracked you 
well. 



22 

Burr. Your answer, dearest one. 

Alice. Not now — not now. My heart had plead and won 
your cause ere you had breathed a word of love to me. And 
yet — no, no — I must leave you. 

{Nemo rustles bushes accidentally a?td dodges out of sight. ) 

Alice. What's that? {They listen.) 

Burr. 'Twas nothing. "Your silence is an agony of doubt. 
Say you are mine— — 

Alice. No, no, no, no. Here comes my uncle. He must 
not see my agitation. {Breaking away from him. ) 

Burr. {Detaining her.) Say you will give me your answer here 
when all the house is still. 

Alice. You must not ask me to. 

Burr. I shall be here awaiting you. 

Alice. You will await in vain. I will not come. Good-night. 

Burr. {Hastily kisses her.) I shall be here ! 

Nemo. {Aside.) And so shall I, false wooer. 
{Exit Alice hastily behind piazza R. as Blenn. enters R. from house. ) 

Bl. My very dear friend, you must be tired. Come, have a 
glass of wine, and then to bed — but where is Alice ? 

Burr. She bade me good-night but a moment ago and left me 
to my meditations and the moon. It's a lovely night. Come, 
before we seek our rest, let me deliver the business which called 
me here. 

Bl. With all my heart. Proceed. Has General Wilkinson 
promised his assistance ? 

Burr. He has, and all is now ready except the marshaling of 
our forces For that there must be a convenient rendezvous. 

Bl. Why not use my island here? 'Tis at your disposal. 

Burr. The best place in the world ; though, my dear friend, I 
should not have presumed so mnch on your generosity as to sug- 
gest it. 

Bl. There must be no delicacy now. I am launched with 
you upon this enterprise, and what is mine is yours. 

Burr. {Grasping his hand.) Thanks, my very dear friend. 
I shall never forget your kindness. The flotilla is already built, 



23 

and lies some thirty miles above here. At the proper moment we 
can leave here, and with our men and stores quietly drop down 
the river to Vick's landing, where Wilkinson will be ready to wel- 
come and to join us. I shall at that time be in New Orleans, so 
that this expedition will be yours to command. {Nemo seen at 
back. ) 

Bl. Indeed, you place more confidence in me than my poor 
abilities merit. 

Burr. Confidence should meet with confidence. I will send 
you full instructions how to act, and inclose also a letter to Gen- 
eral Wilkinson, which I shall intrust to your special care. On no 
account let it leave your hands ; for though it will be in cipher, its 
contents will bear gravely on our scheme. {Nemo listening to all 
this.) To avoid a chance mistake, my messenger will wear a sprig 
of ivy round his hat, and will answer only to the words "the 
southwest wind." Will you remember them? 

Bl. I shall remember. 

Nemo. {At back, aside.) And I shall not forget. 

Bl. Will my instructions be likewise in cipher ? 

Burr. They will, the same as Wilkinson's. This package 
{handing small package) contains the key which, with a little atten- 
tion and practice, will readily make the cipher plain to you. 

Bl. God grant we may be entirely successful. But 

Burr. There is no "but;" we cannot fail. Come, let me tres- 
pass on your hospitality and get to bed ; I'm much fatigued. 

Bl. You are more sanguine of success than I. A weight op- 
presses me. 

Burr. Then cast it off, and think no more of it. It is too 
late to retreat. It is dangerous to go back. It is glorious to go 
ahead. 

{They re-enter the house, R.) 

Nemo. {Advancing cautiously, C.) Has Heaven no retribution 
left to smite that man — that heartless, sweet-tongued hypocrite — 
that lying, bragging, scheming knave, whose soul's more black 
than deep perdition's self; who bears within the outward form of 
man the villainies and instincts of a devil — that— — •? But, no ; I 



24 

will not spend my breath in idle oaths while there is work to do. 
Rest, rest in fancied peace, my fangless, pretty cur, and sleep, and 
dream of a sceptre that is all but won, and see it dashed from your 
hand just as your gloating fingers close about it, by the poor 
worm that grovels in the dust and yet can sting ! ' ' The south- 
west wind " I shall remember ; fear not. But, hush ! Who is 
this approaching ? A man. Tis he ! and alone! Thank God ! 
{Makes significant movement for pistol.) No ; I am deceived ; 'tis 
another — a stranger. ( Conceals himself as before. ) 
{Enter Margaret, R. 1st, dressed as soldier, with long overcoat, etc.) 

Mar. I am so weary. {Throws herself upon seat.) I have fol- 
lowed close upon him, and here I am told I may meet him. He 
said that I might go with him, but he could not wait for me, and 
so I followed him. He would have waited if he could, I know, 
for he loves me — I'm sure he does ; for did he not tell me so in 
words so sweet that I could dwell forever in their sound and drink 
their music to-my soul till I should die of too much ecstasy. 'Tis 
late ; I must knock and ask for him. How overjoyed he'll be to 
see his faithful Margaret in this vast wilderness, and I shall rest 
once more upon his breast. Oh, joy, joy, how eagerly I meet my 
love ! I will knock. 

{Is going toward house as Alice appears in wrap. Margaret shrinks 
back in shadow. ) 

Alice. I cannot rest. I said I would not come, but my rec- 
reant heart gainsays my tongue, and, as the obedient needle to 
the loadstone draws, so am I drawn against my reason and my will 
to meet him here. 

Mar. {L. Aside. ) A female figure ! I am glad of that ; I 
will speak to her. {Comes out of shadow.) 

Alice. {Rushing to Margaret. ) Aaron ! My love ! 

Mar. {Starting back. Aside.) Aaron! My love 1 Do I hear 
aright ? 

Alice. Do you not wish to hear my answer? 

Mar. {Choking.) Yes. 

Alice. Be not cold to me. I will be your bride — {Margaret 
screams and staggers back.) What is this? {Seizes Margaret's 



25 

wrist and looks into her face.') A woman, and in this guise ! What 
do you here ? * Speak, or I shall alarm the house ! 

Mar. Colonel Burr 

Alice. What of him? Why do you seek him? 

Mar. He is in that house? (faintly.) 

Alice. Well ? 

Mar. He expects me ; I am his 

Alice. You are his what ? 

Mar. In the sight of Heaven I am his 

Alice. Go on ; go on. His 

Mar. Wife ! 

Alice. Tis false ! 

Mar. He loves me tenderly. 

Alice. (C. ) 'Tis false again, poor, miserable creature ! Do 
you dream that he would stoop so low as to consort with your 
kind? His soul is great and noble, and is incapable of duplicity. 

Mar. (Z. C.) You love him ! you dare to love him ! You 
shall not ! No, no, no (falling on her knees) ; do not love him ! 
Spare me — he is all I have in this wide world ; and if I lose him, 
life will be so black a void that hell itself will have no torture 
like it. 

Alice. Poor wretch ! I hate you for those words, and yet I 
pity you. He never loved you. 

Mar. Ah yes, he did, and does still. He has sworn it but 
recently, in accents so tender and so true that t© doubt would be 
a sacrilege against all honesty and virtue. 

Alice. Miserable creature, what you say is false ! Were you 
to swear it a thousand times, it would not weigh against his sim. 
pie word. 

Nemo. (Coming forivard, C.) What she has said is true. {Alice 
and Margaret both start.) 

Mar. (Z., facing Nemo.) My God ! Leave me ! leave me ! 
Your presence tortures me beyond endurance. (Sinks on knees 
and buries face. ) 

Alice. (R. ) Who are you ? I see it all : you are here to- 
gether for some evil purpose. I'll give the alarm. (Burr appears 

4 



26 

from house, R. Alice rushes to him.) Who are these strange peo- 
ple ? Send them away. They have asked for you . 

Burr. (Advancing to crouching figure of Margaret . Nemo is a 
little oat of sight, behind tree, L.) For me? Do you wish to see 
me ? 

Mar. (Raising her head. ) That voice is his ! (Springing up 
and rushing to him. ) Ah, Aaron, my love ! my life ! I am here ! 
(Alice watches them closely.) 

Burr. (L. C, starting back, hastily takes Margaret s face in his 
hands, and scrutinizes it.) Margaret! Silly fool, begone. (Cads 
her roughly off. She falls to the ground.) 

Alice. (R. , to Burr, earnestly. ) Who is that woman ? 

Burr. I do not know. 

Alice. You do. She knows you. She loves you. I demand 
to know the truth. 

Burr. A poor young girl, whose life I once saved. 

Alice. And you never loved her ? 

Burr. Never. I have never seen her since till now. 

Nemo. (Springing forward.) Perjured villain ! you shall die 
with that lie fresh upon your soul ! (Shoots at Burr. Margaret 
meanwhile throws herself 'between. Burr stands erect. ) 

Mar. No, no, no, no ! he is my love. (Shot takes effect in 
Margaret, who reels and falls — Burr catching her. ) 

Burr. O God ! must it ever be that those who love me shall 
suffer thus ? (Bending over her, supporting her head. ) 

Tableau. 

CURTAIN. 



ACT III. 



SCENE I. 

Interior of Farm-house of Zekiel Green, at extremity of the Blen- 
nerhassct Island. Zekiel discovered in the act of arraying 
himself in a tight-sleeved, long-bodied, pea-green jacket. 

{Enter Patience Green, his aunt, L ) 

Patience. What on airth air yew a doin', Zekiel Green ? Air 
yew gone clean out of your seven senses ? 

Zekiel. Plague take the pesky coat ! What was that you were 
a sayin', old gal ? 

Patience. {Bridling. ) Air yew aware, Z. Green, Esq. , tew 
whom yew air addressin' those words of disrespect ? 

Zekiel. In course I am. I am addressin' them tew my dear 
Aunt Patience. {Gels coal on after burlesque effort, and coming for- 
ward, kisses Patience. S/ie bursts into tears, and rocks herself in a 
chair, covering her face with her apron.) 

Patience. Oh, your poor dead mother, that is gone ! and 
oh, your poor pa, what is dead ! could they have lived to see this 
sight here, I reckon it would have broke their hearts. [Cries 
afresh. ) 

Zekiel. Wal, I guess they'd been willin' to resk the heart 
business for the sake of bein' here. But, tarnation snakes ! what 
is the matter anyhow ? 

Patience. Just as if you didn't know ! 

Zekiel. Swear our cows may go dry if I do ! Come, now ; 
what is it ? 

Patience. {Rising majestically, and pointing.) Why, you've 
gone — and — got — a — new — coat ! 

Zekiel. S'posin' I have ; what then ? It was my set of har- 
ness that I sold, and it was my money bought the coat. 



28 

Patience. It is not your gay and ungodly attire, Zekiel, that 
annoys me ; you will have to answer for that above. But when 
your poor dear mother, that is gone, said to me, "Be a mother 
to Zeke," I said I would. 

Zekiel. That's because there was nary other chance of being 

Pattence. What's that? 

Zekiel. I said there was no chance of your lettin' up. Go on. 

Patience. After all these years, what do I see ? A new coat ! 
what does it mean ! 

Zekiel. It means a set of harness. 

Patience. So it does mean a set of harness. It means, Zekiel, 

that yew air goin' tew git married ! That's what it means. Yew 

air a courtin'. (Overcome by this thought, she throws herself down on 

chair and weeps.) 

(Enter Burr, C. fr. L.) 

Burr. Good morning, friends ! I hope I haven't disturbed 
any family discussion ? 

Zekiel. No, sir ; it hadn't got as far as a family discussion. 
Aunt Patience here was only a blowin' about my goin' to get 
married. 

Patience. How can you, Zeke ! You air dreadful ! (Aside.) 
What a handsome gentleman ! Now, if some people only had 
eyes, there would be some sense in marrying. (Smooths her apron 
and manages to lake a look in the mirror?) 

Burr. Well, marriage is a very good thing, arid is undoubt- 
edly the destiny of every man and woman. 

Zekiel There now, Aunt Patience, dew yew hear ? 

Burr. But I come on another errand — one that separates fam- 
ilies, instead of uniting them. I come on an errand of war. 

Patience. (Falling back.) O Lord ! 

Burr. You may perhaps have heard something of a new mili- 
tary movement toward the Southwest ? 

Zekiel. I have heard of it, sir, and I knew yew when yew 
came in. Yew air Colonel Burr. 

Burr. (Bows. ) I am the same, and it is about this scheme I 
want to see you. We need men. (Looking significantly at Zekiel.) 



2'J 

Zekiel. {Assuming a strut. ) Did yew say yew needed men ? 

Burr. I did. 

Zekiel. Wal, owin' to malaria and the Injuns, they air rather 
scarce about here just now ; but, thank heaven, there air some 
left. 

Burr. {Looking at Zekiel.') I can easily see there are some fine 
specimens left. 

Patience. {Looking at Burr, aside.) And so can I. 

Burr. I want to find out, friend Green — for such I understand 
your name to be — whether you will undertake to manage a re- 
cruiting station down here for my forces ? 

Zekiel. Geerusalem ! but won't I ? 

Burr. In case you do, I will make you Captain, and call the 
Company after you. It shall be Green's Militia. 

Zekiel. {Dancing with joy. ) What dew yew think of that, 
Suky ? Captain Green ! 

Patience. Yes, and a very green Captain, I swan ! 

Zekiel. Come, now ; that ain't fair. I aint a soldier yet. 

Burr. All in good time. Your instructions will be given you. 

Patience. Lawkes ! what an honor for you, Zeke ! How 
proud your poor dear dead and gone 

Zekiel. Never yew mind about that now. Why don't you get 
the breakfast ready ? Mebby Colonel Burr will sit down tew our 
frugal feast, as I hearn the dominy say ? 

Patience. Oh, you will ; wont you, sir ? I kin get it ready 
in a jiffy. A nice slice of crisp Ohio bacon, sum new lain eggs, 
sum buckwheat cakes, sum fresh milk, sum maple serup, some 
fresh doughnuts, sum 

Burr. Thank you, my dear, good woman, you are as hospitable 
as you are charming ; but I must return to Mr. Blennerhassett's for 
breakfast. 

Patience. {Aside.) Dear, lawkes ! What a nice man. {Smooth- 
ing apron and cap. ) What real good taste he has ! he's none of 
yer harum-scarum men, who's always running after giddy young 
girls. But really, my very dear Colonel Burr, you will have a glass 
of new milk, just to oblige me, won't you, neow ? {Lnsinuatingly. ) 



30 

Burr. {Amused.) Indeed, you are so pressing, who could re- 
fuse you ? 

Patience. Dear me, I knew you would ! I'll go and fetch it 
from the dairy. {Aside. ) What a real nice man ! 

{Exit, L.) 

Zekiel. {Coming forward.) She's a real good soul, but some- 
times she's hefty pecooliar. You mustn't mind her, though. The 
old gal means well. 

Burr. Indeed ! I deem her a very pleasant old lady. But 
I'm glad she has left us alone for a few moments, as I wish to 
speak to you privately. 

Zekiel. Wal, that's kind of sing'lar ; but skoot ahead, old 
mud-skudgeon ! {Burr checks his familiarity with a glance. Con- 
fused.) I mean Colonel. I'm all ears. 

Burr. {Aside.) Nearly. You have heard of the attempted 
murder last night ? 

Zekiel. What's that ? Murder ? Whar ? 

Burr. At Blennerhassett's. 

Zekiel. Dew tell ! What abeout it ? Let's hear. 

Burr. There was a one-armed man concealed in the shrub- 
bery. 

Zekiel. A one-armed man ? Consarned if I didn't fetch him 
over in one of my boats ! 

Burr. And a woman. Did you ferry her, too ? 

Zekiel. Nary a woman. 

BuRr. She was in men's clothes — soldier's clothes. 

Zekiel. The deuce ! That man in soldier's clothes was a 
woman ! Wal, dem my buttons ! Cuss me if that warn't the rea- 
son why he— no, I mean she — no, I mean they — it ? — it wouldn't 
say a consarned word 'cept yes and no ; and I tried my mightiest 
tew find out whar he — it came from. Wal, go ahead. 

Burr. Well, this one-armed man shot at me while I was talk- 
ing to the strange woman, and the ball struck her, wounding her 
severely, though not seriously. 

Zekiel. And did he get away? 

Burr. Not then. We overtook the ruffian and secured him 



31 

in an out-house ; but during the night he made his escape, and is 
now on the island, doubtless. Is there any way for him to get 
across the river except by the use of your boat ? 

Zekiel. None, unless he swims, an' I guess he'll hardly try that, 
for the current's pretty swift right about here. We'll ketch him. 

Burr. I don't want to catch him. I want him to escape. 

Zekiel. (Astounded.) To escape ! 

Burr. Yes. I want you to contrive to leave a boat and oars 
a little up the stream, so that he can steal them and get away. Do 
you understand? {Taking out purse significantly.') 

Zekiel. Can't say as I do. You see, I don't like (Bun- 
jingles money.) Wal, I spose as I'm a soldier now I must obey my 
superior's orders. 

Burr. You will find it advantageous. (Gives purse.) You 
must speak to nobody regarding what I have just said to you. 

Zekiel. I'm dumb as a hedge-fence Hush, here comes Aunt 
Patience (looking out), and there's Miss Alice with her looking as 
fresh as a primrose. 

Bukr. (Aside.) Alice here? I am sorry for that. 

(Enter Alice and Patience, C. fr . L. ) 

Alice. Ah ! Colonel Burr, I see you have anticipated my errand 
here. 

Burr. If it be to warn these good people of that villain's escape 
and to secure his recapture, I have indeed forestalled you. 

Alice. His escape! Has he too escaped ! Did you not un- 
dertake to guard him personally ? 

Patience. Who's escaped ? What's that? 

Zekiel. Don't be curious, Aunt Patience. Come in and get 
breakfast and I'll tell you about it. 

(Exit Zeke and Patience, L. ) 

Burr. I did ; but I was so careless in my duty that I let the 
rascal get away. 

Alice. You a soldier, too — that's very odd. Perhaps not more 
so though than my own carelessness. My poor wounded bird also 
has flown away 

Burr. What ! Margaret gone ! 



Alice. Margaret ! How knew you her name ? 

Burr. Did she not mention it last night? But tell me — has 
she indeed gone ? 

Alice. I watched her all night long ■ she turned and tossed 
upon the bed, burning with fever and babbling to herself. 

Burr. What did she say ? 

Alice. Nothing intelligible — her shoulder, where the ball 
struck her, pained her greatly, and it seemed to divert her way- 
ward thoughts from the subject of her dreams. 

Burr. (Aside.) A most fortunate diversion. 

Alice. In her semi-waking moments I questioned her about 
her errand to you, and [hanging her head) of her relationship 
with you. You must forgive me, Aaron, I am but a woman, and 
one of those who love but once. I am sure that this girl has 
loved you, and I do not blame her for that. She could scarce 
avoid the fate if you crossed her humble path. I rest sweetly 
contented, however, in the assurance that you love none but me. 
It is a pleasant dream. 

Burr. May you never awake from it, darling. 

Alice. Awake from it ! Awake from it ! It would be my 
death or yours ; but let us not talk in this wild way. Near dawn 
I fell asleep, and when I woke she had gone, having donned the 
dress I had placed beside the bed. I am glad you have taken 
measures to have the would-be assassin intercepted. When I 
spoke to Mr. Blennerhasset about having the island searched, he 
told me that you had volunteered to attend to it — and how about 
the sick and wounded girl — we must find her. 

Burr. All the arrangements have been made. No one can 
leave the island save by Mr. Green's boats. I have already had a 
conversation with him. 

Alice. One question more, dearest — and forgive me if it is an 
iteration : You do not know — at least remember — this girl ? 

Burr. I do not recall that I have ever seen her since I was for- 
tunate enough to save her life until last night. Doubtless her 
gratitude misled her. 

Alice. It is enough ; I am the happiest of women. 



33 



Burr. And I of men. 

Au-ce. And yet, I do not know why I should be so happy 
when a helpless creature who has loved you — and I do feel heart- 
ily sorry for the poor girl, as I said last night, who is now roaming 
this island sick and wounded. 

Burr. I will see that she is found and cared for. Return 
home, dear Alice, with that assurance. I will follow you as soon 
as I have spoken with our ferry-man. (Leads Alice to door.) 

Alice. Do not remain long away. 

Burr. I will not, dearest. 

(Alice exits, C. to L.) 

Burr. (Solus.) So far, the cards run well. Fortune favors 
me. Both have escaped. It suits my purpose well to help them 
on their way. 

(Scene Changes. ) 



SCENE II. 
A woodscape betiveen BlennerhassetV s mansion and Green's house. 

{Enter Nemo Jiastily, R. 1st.) 
Nemo. (Solus.) Still the game goes on, and I, as ever, hold 
the losing cards. Do I ? We shall see — we shall see. It cannot 
be — it cannot be that villainy shall always hold the trumps. I 
hate him with all the hatred of a soul that's damned. Why should 
I not ? My destiny is fixed ; Heaven has chosen me as its instru- 
ment of retribution. How it chafes me to be compelled to fly ! 
And yet I must. But not from him. No, no ; not from him ! 
Ah, here comes some one ! The lady of last night. Shall I con- 
front her ? I will, and warn her of her danger in listening to the 
fair words of that oily fiend. (Retires, L. up. ) 

(Enter Alice, L. 1st.) 
Alice. Would that I were satisfied. If he is true to me, he is 
my God< — I worship him. But were he a thousand times the hero 

5 



34 

my love would make him, and false to me, I'd curse him with the 
vehemence of a fiend. 

Nemo. {Coming suddenly forward.) Then curse him as a thing 
most damnable. 

Alice. (Shrinking back. ) Who are you ? 

Nemo. Do not fear me, young lady. 

Alice. You are a would be murderer ! 

Nemo. Are you to judge me without knowing the incentive 
for my act? He is a villain steeped in crime. I overheard his 
protestations of love for you ; believe me, fair lady, when I say that 
he was false to you as to all the world beside, and to warn you 
of your danger 

Alice. Can you prove to me the truth of what you say ? 

Nemo. I can. 

Alice. And if you do I shall despise him as heartily as you do. 

Nemo. And pursue him as I do ? 

Alice. I shall thwart him in his grand aspirations if I can. 

Nemo. ' You promise that ! 

Alice. I do ; but I must have some stronger proof than mere 
suspicion. 

Nemo. You shall have convincing proof. First of all, that poor 
girl, Margaret ! 

Alice. Ah ! Margaret, what of her ? 

Nemo. What did he tell you of her ? 

Alice. That he had saved her life, and that her gratitude had 
grown to love ; that he had never met her — never seen her .after 
till last night ; that he never loved her. Was that true ? 

Nemo. It was not. Margaret — alas ! what shall I say she was 
to him ? Oh, God, it makes me wild to think of it ! She was as 
pure and innocent as you, dear lady, when this villain crossed her 
path. He met her at her mother's house in New Jersey ; she was 
then my affianced bride. I loved her as the flowers love the sun- 
shine — as the birds love the free air of heaven ; I loved her so 
truly that my whole life was bound up in hers, and noon could 
have no sun more bright than was her sweet smile to me. With 
his damned insidious arts he won her love away from me, only to 



35 

ruthlessly destroy the flower he had plucked. I saw her growing 
coldness and knew the cause of it. A burning, torturing jealousy 
seized me — Ah, lady, I could not bear to lose that precious thing. 
Her love 

Alice. Go on — go on. Did she 

Nemo. One unhappy morning her room was vacant — my 
pretty bird had flown, and flown off with the hawk. I swore to 
her poor heart-broken mother I would find them. And I did. I 
found them in New York. I sought to bring the erring loved one 
home. Burr sneered at me when I upbraided him. We quar- 
reled. I was unarmed ; but blinded with jealous rage and hate, 
I struck him to the earth, and seizing the fainting Margaret in my 
arms, would have borne her off, but that he struck me with his 
sword, and I lost my arm. 

Alice. Poor fellow ! I am sorry for you. 

Nemo. When I was over the weeks of fever I endured I de- 
termined to follow him, and take an arm from him as he took 
mine. It was not till then I learned the secret of my life, and 
found that my fate was linked with his by a bond of deadly, re- 
lentless hatred other than poor Margaret's shame ; and then I 
swore to kill him. 

Alice. As yet, you have given me no proof. I have but your 
word ; and I cannot, will not, believe him such a villain. 

Nemo. True ; I had forgot How can I prove the truth of 
what I say ? {Margaret heard singing, R. ) 

Stop ! Is that not she ? How is this ? I thought you had 
confined her in the house? 

Alice. She escaped from me this morning. I'm glad I've 
found her. I can question her. 
{Enter Margaret, dressed in female attire. She is crazed, and in the 

delirium of fever. Grotesquely arrayed with branches, leaves, etc.} 

Mar. (Singing) — 

"You are going far away, far away from poor Jeanette, 
There's no one left to love me, and you too may forget ;" 
Good morning, good people, can you direct me on my way ? 
Here's money for you (gives branch) — 



36 

Alice. You are burning with fever, come with me 

Mar, (Laughing wildly.) Ha, ha, ha ! I know you, you are 
cunningly disguised — you are the man in the moon. (Sings.) 
The man in the moon 
Is a merry old* coon, 
A rollicking, frollicking, noisy old fellow, 
Ever happy and glad, 
He never is sad, 
This good-natured, rollicking, frollicking fellow. 
Ah ! would I were he. I am so unhappy ! 

Alice. Poor child, you are 

Mar. (Peering dreamingly in her face.) You are beautiful — 
you stole my love, what did you do with him ? (Looking around 
and encountering gaze of Nemo, starts and shrinks away. ) Ah ! 
(then losing herself again — to Nemo. ) You are a good, kind gen- 
tleman, to come so far with me, but I can go alone now, thank 
you. 

Nemo. (Passionately^) See, see the completeness of his wicked 
work ! This is the flower I nurtured in my heart so tenderly. 
Margaret, speak to me ! Say that you know me ! 

Mar. ( Weeping.) He has gone away. Where can I find him? 

(Sings. ) 

"Oh, if I were King of France, or, still better, Pope of Rome, 
I'd have no fighting men abroad, no weeping maids at home." 

Alice. Is this not pitiful ? 

Nemo. Do you ask more proof than this of his villainy ? 

Alice. Tell me in what way we can punish him ! 

Nemo. There is but one way to reach him. 

Alice. What is that? 

Nemo. Strike at him through his great scheme. Lay the axe 
at the tree of his ambition. 

(Alice ivalkmg excitedly up and down. ) 

Alice. But how? 

Nemo. He is a traitor to his country, and even now is con- 
spiring to induce the army to desert their flag and march nnder 
his 

Alice. I cannot believe he is so base ! 



37 

Nemo. Convince yourself, then. You have access to Blenner- 
hassett's private papers ? 

Alice. Yes — well ? 

Nemo. Secure, in some way, the key to the correspondence in 
cypher between Burr and General Wilkinson ; I will attend to the 
rest. 

Alice. But I cannot stoop 

Nemo. When you are fighting against villains you must not 
hesitate to use their own weapons against them. 
(Margaret, who has been making a wreath, now puts it on and comes 
down. ) 

Mar. Come, dear friends, let us hasten away from here. He 
will think I am not coming. See, there he comes. {Pointing off, 
L.) I knew he would come back. (Claps her hands. ) 

Nemo. It is indeed he. Let us conceal ourselves. 

Mar. No; you must fly; he will arrest you. 

Nemo. No danger of that ; 'twas he that set me free this morn- 
ing. Yet I will leave you, as it might not be advantageous to 
have him see us together. I may speak with you again. 

Alice. Yes ; here, to-morrow. Fly ! 

Nemo. You will take care of her {indicating Margaret.) 

Alice. Yes ; now go. 
(Exit Nemo, R 2d. Alice hides herself behind tree, R. 2d, as enter 
Burr, L. ist. Margaret runs to meet him. He repulses her and 
then looks carefully around. ) 

Burr. You here ! Why did you come to this place to hamper 
my progress ? Foolish, miserable girl, you must return home at 
once ; your presence here has well nigh ruined me. 

Mar. (L. C.) Dear Aaron, I did not mean to trouble you, 
nor to be an obstacle in your path, although I know it leads away 
from me. I came here because you said I might. Do not chide 
me, I will be your slave (Then the insanity returning.) Won't that 
be jolly ! I'll be a soldier. Let me be a soldier and ride by your 

side ( Sings. ) 

" Let me like a soldier fall." 

Burr. You .must leave here. Do you understand me ? 



38 

Mar. {Sadly.) Yes ; I will leave you if you bid me, though 
my poor heart is breaking. I am very ill. (Pressing her hand to 
her forehead. ) 

Burr. No matter, you must leave 

Alice. (Aside. ) And this is the man for whom she would sac- 
rifice her life. 

Mar. As you say, Aaron. Yes, perhaps your little Margie 
would only be in the way of your greatness, and she wants to see 
you a great soldier. You will kiss me once before I go. 

Burr. Yes. (Kisses her coldly. ) There — now go. Follow this 
path till you arrive at Green's house ; he will ferry you across the 
river. There's money for you. (Hands money. ) 

Mar. (Shaking her head and declining money.) No, I want no 
money, I can walk, I am quite jstrong again (staggering, going L. ) 
My journey will be a short one — a very short one. Good-bye. 
Think of your little " Margie" sometimes, will you ? We'll be 
friends now, not lovers, and we will laugh when we look back and 
think how foolish we were to love. Ha, ha, ha ! Good-bye — 
o-ood-bye — (going, stops — rushes back in paroxysm of griefs No, 
no, no, I cannot, I cannot, I cannot ! (Falls sivooning into Burr's 
arms. ) 

Alice. (Coming from concealment — excitedly.) I can endure this 
no longer. Wretched, cold-hearted man, you stand in your true 
light. 

Burr. (Aside ) Alice here ! Have you been listening ? 

Alice. Chance compelled me to be a witness of your perfidy, 
and to unmask your treachery. 

Burr. You wrong me, Miss Leighton. (Placing Margaret on 
grassy bank, R. up.) 

Alice. If believing you to be a villain wrongs you, then I do. 
Your cruelty to that poor girl, your duplicity to me, have torn 
the veil from my eyes, and I behold you, not the hero my dazzled 
imagination painted you, but a stony demon in the guise of man. 

Burr. (R. ) Have you done ? 

Alice. No, I have not done. You have aroused a nature as 
fiery and as stubborn as your own. I am the daughter of a sol- 



39 



dier, Colonel Burr — a soldier, understand ; not a trickster and a 
traitor. (Burr flinches slightly.) You have met your match for 
once. You have not done well to make an enemy of me, Yes, 
Margaret (going to Margaret, R. up, and taking tier head in her 
arms), your wrongs shall be avenged. We are no longer rivals, 
but co-workers to destroy the stony image of a blind idolatry, and 
substitute the light of virtue and of truth. 

Burr. (L. C. ) Miss Leighton, I have listened to your de- 
nunciation with inexpressible pain, keener because I think you 
believe in the truth of what you say. You deem me heartless and 
cruel. Do you think my heart does not bleed for the sufferings 
of that poor girl ? I would spare her that terrible ordeal if I 
could ; but there are higher claims upon me. Do not judge me 
hastily. The lot of genius is to be misconstrued, because misun- 
derstood. The world can no more measure the terrible isolation, 
the wild yearnings of the ceaseless, consuming passions of its 
great men than can the placid pool of the forest appreciate the 
tremendous upheaval of the ocean tempest. It is the penalty of 
genius that it should sacrifice upon the altar of the world's igno- 
rance all that is noble, generous, and good. Can you wonder, 
then, that what may seem the extravagance of vice and cruelty 
may be but the natural outpourings of a soul swayed by impulses 
more turbulent and resistless than its fellows only because it is 
grander and more noble. I loved you, Alice, with all the passion 
of my soul. I never loved that poor child there. 

Alice. Spare yourself the mortification of that confession. 

Burr. (L. C. ) The eagle cannot mate with the dove. He 
was made for loftier nights, and only occasionally does he come 
so near the plain. Before I leave you, may I dare to ask if I may 
hope 

Alice. Hope ! Ay, hope for my life-long detestation ! We 
part, Colonel Burr, as enemies ! 

Burr. As enemies? 

Alice. As the bitterest of foes. Go ! 

Burr. So be it — as foes. 

CURTAIN. 



j^OT IY, 



SCENE I. 

Interior of Zeke's Farm House, now a recruiting station. Benches, 
tables, stacks of guns, flags and military paraphernalia scat- 
tered about. Recruits, shabbily costumed, playing cards, some 
reading. Zeke {front) rises from his table, ivalks with sivag- 
gering gesture. He is in burlesque full uniform, with the ex- 
ception of his coat. 

Zekiel. (P.) Wal, my army's about made up, I reckon, 
'cept Sambo and Pat — wont they just make a team ! I s'pose I'll 
have to give Sambo the big drum and make Pat the head cook. 

(Enter Pat and Sambo, C. , arm in arm. Sambo has a red coat and 
Pat a green one. They halt and salute in mock dignity. ) 

Zekiel. (P.) Eyes right ! {Burlesque drill movement.} 

Zekiel. First battalion, three paces to the left ! 

Sambo. Dat's you, Corporal Pat ; you's de first battalion, you 
is. 

Pat. (P. C.) Me distinguished friend from Africa, I hev not 
the honor ; I'm the third brigade. 

Zekiel. (P.) Here, you two, do yew hear? I want you to 
stop ajawin' and mind orders. I'll hev yew in the guard-house 
for mutiny before long, mind that. Fall in neow and form a 
hollow square. 

(Sambo and Pat look at each other curiously and then embrace. The 
lookers-on applaud them. Sambo and Pat exit in military style, 
C. Enter Nemo, C.) 

Nemo. L. C.) Is this the head-quarters? 
Zekiel. (P. C. ) Guess so. It might be neow. 
Nemo. Is Colonel Burr about? 



41 

Zekiel. Wal, he might be, and then perhaps he aint. Wont 
any other soldier do ? (Straightens himself proudly. ) 

Nemo. Do not think I made any mistake — the warlike bearing 
is too evident — you were born for the tented field. 

(Zeke rattles his sword. Fixes neckcloth pompously. ) 

Zekiel. Want to jine ? 

Nemo. Yes. 

Zekiel. Why yes, of course you do. Who wouldn't? What's 
your name ? 

Nemo. What's your's, General? 

Zekiel. (Aside. ) Great slapjacks, wont that open Patience's 
eyes — General ! (To Nemo.) Wal, Colonel, my name is Green. 

Nemo. ' Funny ! Why, my name is Green, too. 

Zekiel. Well, I dew declare, who'd a thought sich a thing. 
( Writes down the name and looks at it admiringly. ) 

Zekiel. Ah, let me see — Was yew any relation to the Greens 
of 



Nemo. Greenland ? No, sir. 

Zekiel. (Nettled.) I didn't say Greenland. Whar was you 
from ? 

Nemo. It doesn't matter — I'm a soldier. I come from the 
wars. 

Zekiel. All the Greens dew, and some of them are green for 
dewing it. Now, my dad — Niggerdemus Tophaniah Zekiel was 
the front of his name — he fit in the wars. Perhaps yew didn't 
know Niggerdemus Tophaniah Zekiel Green ? 

Nemo. I had not that pleasure. 

Zekiel. Ah, he was a soldier ; yew always calculated to find 
him whar the shot was the thickest. 

Nemo. Yes 

Zekiel. Yes ; poor dad, he was thar every time — he drove the 
ammunition wagon. (Omnes laugh. Affected.) lie was killed 
in the war, he was! (Auditors show signs of repenting their mirth ) 
He was kicked in the head by a pesky mule. (Mock grief from 
all for the death of Zeke's progenitor. ) 

6 



42 

Nemo. (C.) I like these tales of the battle; they stir my blood 
as the bugles do. I would like to be in action in the front rank, 
and as near the General as possible. 

Zekiel. Oh, you dew — dew yew? Wal, then you can place 
yourself there if you've a mind to. I was about to elect an ensign ; 
spose I elect you 

Nemo. Consider me elected. 

Zekiel. Good. Now let's shake hands to ratify the bargain — 
but say, yew haint told me your front name. 

Nemo. Ah, true. Well, put it down Nemo. 

Zekiel. Well, that's an odd name, young feller, but down she 
goes. 

Nemo. When do you want me to report for duty? 

Zekiel. Neow — right neow? If you'll go down to the shanty 
you'll find sum soldier's fixin's — yew can take the best yew can 
find. Come right back, 'cause we will drop down the river 
to-night. 

Nemo. I shall be prompt, Colonel. (Aside, going.) So, Col- 
onel Burr, you will have a determined soldier in your camp, and 
one that will follow you to death. 

(Exit, C, Nemo, as the Chaplain, a seedy fellow with a red nose, comes 
on, C. They encounter. He is made up like a military cliadband. 
The card players break up their games. Two have a dsipute about 
slakes and draw horse-pistols. Zeke gets hold of the Chaplain and 
uses him for breastworks while he shouts.) 

Zekiel. Look a-here, yew over there, put them cannon things 
away. I'll have you court-marshalled. (Row continues.) I'll stop 
your whiskey. (Instantly the row ceases. ) 

Zekiel. ( Very bold.) I thought that would fetch you. 

(Chaplain trembles.) 

* 

Chaplain. Heaven be^ praised, there is no gore — no blood 
shed. It would be shocking for a soldier in the army of peace to 
witness violence. Dear me, I am so faint. Now, if we only had 
a drop of spiritual consolation. (Soldiers cheer and crowd around.) 



43 

Soldiers. That's the style ! Go on, Captain Green, serve us 
out something — ■ — 

Gambler. (With black eye and hoarse voice.} Seems to me the 
winner ought to stand treat, jest out of respect to the church. 

Chaplain. Friend, you speak well ; I will send you some 
tracts. 

Zekiel. Wal, I don't mind. Come now, me brave warriors, 
dress up, get in line and form yourself into the tin-cup division. 

(Soldiers cheer and fall in rapidly and grotesquely, with much fuss. 

Green gels info a ridiculously bombastic coat — very gorgeous, huge 
epaulettes, &c. ) 
Zekiel. (Brandishing his sword.) Now for the refreshments. 

(Enter Patience, C, dressed 'as a vivandiere, very lean, lanky and funny, 
a little keg of spirits strung at her side. ) 

Zekiel. (Horrified.) Patience Green, are you aware what your 
name is and who yew air, and the family yew air disgracin' of — 
Take them things off 

Patience. (Bridling.) I would hev yew to know, Zekiel 
Green, that I am your survivin' aunt, and that I'm old enough to 
do as I please. I'm not going to stay here ; I'm agoin' with the 
army — 

Soldiers. Hurrah ! 

Chaplain. (Casts sheep's eyes at Patience and looks lovingly at the 
cask. Aside.) How sweet she looks. 

Patience. (Aside. ) There is that handsome preachin' chap ; 
guess those fellows know the marriage service all by heart. (Sighs. ) 
Who knows what may happen — Colonel Burr is single ! 

Zekiel. (Disgusted. ) Old enough to know \* hat yew air doin'. 
Wal, I should say so. You were old enough for that fifty years 
ago. 

Chaplain. Before we move, gentlemen, I would suggest — 
ahem — I would mention that, out of compliment to the fair sex, 
a little hymn or a song, not too secular, would be appropriate. 

(Enter Pat, C.) 



44 



Soldier. And there's just the man. Come on, Paddy, a 
song. 

Pal. I dont mind obligin' yez, but me throat's like a turn-pike 
in July. 

{Patience pours out liquor in cup. Pat drinks and Chaplain passes his 
hands across his stomach. 

SONG. 

Air— "The Jolly Tailor." 
Oh, the soldier's life is the life for me, 

To inarch wid banners flyin' ; 
To blaze wid glory on the field, 

Amid the dead an' dyin' ! 
Let those who wish it stay at home 

An' die in bed so aisy — 
But as for Paddy O'Mahone, 

To die so 'd set him crazy. 

Oh, a soldier's life is the life for me, 
It is so gay and frisky ; 

There is lots of fun, wid a sword and gun, 
A scrimmaging for whiskey. 

Then he loves the girls, does the soldier true — 

The girls think he's a darlint ; 
To get a squeeze in warlike arms 

The sweets are always quar'lin'. 
A soldier, tho' as bold as Mars, 

Does not fulfil his duty 
Unless he's always at the front 

To comfort youth and beauty. 

Chorus. 

And as soon as the fighting is all done, 

He goes back to his widdy, 
An' thin he hears the shouts and cheers 

While marching through the city. 
His heart beats fast as he goes past, 

An' he feels like all creation, 
For he's the idol of the crowd — 

The hero of the nation. 

Chorus. 



45 

Thin och ! what a terrible spree there 'II be, 

As all the boys give welcome. 
There's Mike O'Luke and Patsey Duke, 

O'Callahan and Malcome : 
The Hagan byes and ould Mukloon, 

And lovely Mother Folge.r ; 
And Mary Ann and all the gang, 

To glorify the soldier. 

Chorus. 

{As song ceases fife and drum heard. Enter Samba, C. , healing big 
drum, and anotlicr negro playing fife.} 

Zekiel. Ha, the band has arrived ; now for it. Forward ! 
Right ! March ! 

{Zeke keeps time and waves his sword as /he crowd, preceded by /he 
musicians, ?narch ouf. Patience follows waving a flag, and the 
Chaplain, who lakes advantage of the excitement, turns the tap of 
the cask and catches a drink in his tin cup. He drinks with up- 
turned eyes and then walks out sanctimoniously. A s they disappear, 
enter Nemo in uniform, C. ) 

Nemo. Fools ! They laugh and drink and little dream of 
what is about to- take place. They have an idea that this fighting 
life is but a gentle jaunt. I have but one purpose here, and, that 
fulfilled, I will leave this place forever. (At 7vindow.) See who 
comes here — a soldier, and covered with dust. Can it be ? Yes, 
it is. It is the messenger, the ivy wreathed about his hat. Thank 
heaven, my plans prosper well. 

(Enter Messenger, C. fr. R. ) 

Mess. (R. C.) Can you direct me, sir, to Mr. Blennerhassett ? 

Nemo. (L. C.) Quite easily, friend. You have evidently 
travelled far. 

Mess. No, not very. (Carelessly.) 

Nemo. That's right, that's right; it were not safe to tell 
everybody that you have come all the way from Colonel Burr 

Mess. (Starting.) How knew you that 

Nemo. (Laughing. ) By your sprig of ivy and the southwest 
wind 



46 

Mess. Then you are 

Nemo. Blennerhassett, and you have a letter for me. 

Mess. I have two ; the other is for 

Nemo. {Carelessly.) For General Wilkinson, which I am to 
deliver. Am 1 right? 

Mess. You are. {Takes out letters and hands them to Nemo) 
And now, my message delivered, and as a companion waits for 
me on the other side of the river, I will bid you God-speed and a 
fair southwest wind. 

Nemo. Thank you, my friend, a fair southwest wind (Exit, C. 
to R., Messenger — allermg his manner), but not for him. A fierce 
tornado is brewing, Colonel Burr, which shall forever blast your 
ambitious schemes and stamp your name with ignominy. This 
letter to Wilkinson will, I warrant, secure your downfall. We 
will learn its contents at once. The key to the cypher is in the 
possession of the lovely Alice, who will glory to aid me to my end. 
So, so, your most imperial majesty, the owls will soon grow hoarse 
with hooting at your vain presumption. {Exit C.) 

Scene Closes. 



SCENE II. 

Ante-room to ball room at Vick's Landing, near General Wilkin- 
sons headquarters. A hall in first groove in country mansion. 

{Enter Wilkinson with letter in hand, JR.) 

Gen. A letter from Burr at last, and soon Burr himself. By 
the powers, this plan approaches fruition, and Burr will be an em- 
peror ! We shall see, we shall see. He holds sway now in one 
place — : at least where I envy him — in the heart of the woman I 
love. Let him look to it, that I do not dethrone him in both 
particulars. (Reading letter.) "Now is the time for you to use 
your influence. Call upon the army, fire them with ardor, and our 
grand scheme is a complete success." Ah, Colonel, you little 
know for whom I am working. Wily, sly, oily knave as you are, 



47 



you do not dream that you are being fought with your own 
weapons. I will play with you, my astute Colonel, to the end of 
your folly — until the empire is a fact, and then I will call upon 
the army, but for what purpose, that remains to be seen. 

{Enter Blennerhassett, L. ) 

Bl. You have deciphered the letter which I have brought to 
you ? 

Gen. Yes ; 'tis not difficult. Both the cypher and the purport 
is easily comprehended. Burr speaks bluntly. 

Bl. This is too important a crisis to permit a choice of terms. 
We must fully understand each other 

Gen. But should the letter have miscarried it might have com- 
promised some of us. Are you quite sure you have kept your key 
carefully guarded ? 

Bl. Yes ; even my wife, from whom I have few secrets, knows 
nothing of it. 

Gen. Then we are safe. 

Bl. At this moment we need to be. All is in readiness to 
strike — the flotilla is even now awaiting our orders. Burr will be 
here presently. A mistake would be death, shame and disgrace ! 
The fete to-night will be the glittering seal set upon our compact. 
I hope that it will be as brilliant as I anticipate. Burr is a man 
who likes a little ostentation. When he is an emperor I suppose the 
court will outrival in grandeur the temple of the Sun he is so fond 
of speaking about. 

Gen. (Aside.) When he is an emperor. Now my tastes are 
simple 

Bl. You know the sign we are to wear to show that each heart 
is true, and to let the others know that all is in readiness for the 
striking of the blow. 

Gen. No. What is it? 

Bl. Burr, yourself and myself and all those who know defin- 
itely the moment of the movement will wear red ribbons in the 
button hole of the coat. When this is seen the parties to the 
con — ahem — to the agreement will understand that the clock of 
fate has struck the glorious hour ! 



48 

Gen. I am glad you told me. I will be so decorated 

Bl. Do not fail ; it would be awkward. The ribbon has 
another significance, as I learn from Burr. It bids us to assemble 
at dawn after the ball is over, and formally throw off all allegiance 
to the United States. 

Gen. I will not fail ! 

Bl. Fail ! Without General Wilkinson our empire would be 
but a dream spun of moonbeams. Till to-night, farewell. 

Gen. * {Bowing.) Till then (Exit Blenn., L.) 

{Enter Alice, R. Wilkinson puts away letter, to which he has returned, 
hastily. ) 

Alice, (R.) Good morning, General. Are you going to the 
ball ? 

Gen. (L. ) Are you ? 

Alice. Most assuredly. 

Gen. Then why ask me? Your being there determines my 
course. 

Alice. (Archly.') To stay away of course, I suppose. 

Gen. You know differently. To be near you I would absent 
myself from a battle even 

Alice. You might have enough of combat and din of war in 
my society. I am not the most even tempered of women 

Gen. But why should I go to-night? Colonel Burr will be 
there. 

Alice. I hope so. 

Gen. You are going to the ball then to see Burr. 

Alice. I am, for no other reason. 

Gen. He should be a happy man. 

Alice. He will be a very unhappy one. 

Gen. What do you mean? 

Alice. We must be equally frank. How do you regard me ? 

Gen. I love — I adore you — I 

Alice. (Coolly.) That's enough — so does Colonel Burr. 

Gen. (R. C.) I know it. 

Alice. He has proposed for my hand and offers me a seat on 
the throne he is about to erect. 



49 

Gen. And you accepted ? 

Alice. Would I not have been foolish to refuse?* 

Gen. But suppose he fails — suppose another occupies that 
throne ? 

Alice. He must (ail ; that throne will never be. Do you 
understand ? 

Gen. {Dazed. ) Hardly. Be more explicit. 

Alice. It is my pleasure, it is my will ; in fact, it is my com- 
mand that the conspiracy be exploded to-night, and that Burr be 
arrested ! 

Gen. By whom ? 

Alice. By you ! 

Gen. Impossible — would you have me a traitor to friendship? 

Alice. I know you, General, better than you think I do Your 
remark a little while ago, about another occupying the throne 
confirms my suspicions. You mean to betray Burr in the future. 
Is it less ignoble to be false to a man who would use you for his 
own selfish aggrandizement than to be a traitor to your country — 
and you a soldier, too — fie ! for shame ! Think — at present you 
are not committed— surrender him to the authorities at once, and 
you will be applauded for your integrity, fail to do so, and I shall 
denounce you both, and you will share his fate 

Gen. But what does this mean ? Have you and he 

Alice. It doesn't matter what has happened. If what you 
profess as regards myself be true, you should be content to see an 
estrangement, however brought about. 

Gen. I am — I am — but — 

Alice. Then act — the knights of old did braver deeds than I 
ask of you, to win favor at their ladies' hands 

Gen. But soft, fair Alice. How know you that I propose to 
do aught that would not bear the light of my countrymen's inspec- 
tion ? Burr has purchased the lands he now proposes to occupy. 
Surely, there no crime in that. 

Alice. You deceive yourself in seeking to deceive me. As I 
entered, you held a letter which you hastily concealed. The con- 
tents of that letter are known to me. 

1 



50 

Gen. You are dreaming — the letter is in cypher (searchingly). 

Alice. Of which I have the key — shall I tell what is in the 
letter ? 

Gen. {Confused.') No, no. 

Alice, There is another person, a man, a remorseless enemy 
of Burr's, who also knows about the letter, knows who wrote it — 
to whom it is addressed and what is in it. It breathes treason in 
every line. If you retain that letter, and remain silent, your guilt 
is clear, you have but one course — denounce Burr, and save your- 
self 

Gen. And what may I hope for ? 

Alice. For honor — instead of shame ! 

Gen. But you, sweet lady ? 

Alice. As to myself, I promise nothing. It strikes me that 
if I were a man, I would be content for the moment in working 
the destruction of my rival. 

Gen. You are right — I am yours 

Alice. Then seal the compact. [Holds out hand which General 
kisses. ) 

Alice. And now hasten to prepare for to-night's work. 

Gen. You have set me a severe task, sweet lady ; but I do your 
bidding as a willing slave. {Aside. ) The game is lost — she is 
right — there is but one course to pursue ; I must save myself. 

{Exit, R.) 

Alice. Now, my brave Colonel, you praised my beauty — if I 
do possess it, it has been a masked battery which now opens 

upon you. 

(Exit, L.) 
(Scene Changes.) 



SCENE III. 
A ball-room in country house at Viclis-landing , near Wilkinsons head- 
quarters. Decorated in primitive style. Rustic guests discovered 
promenading. 

(Enter Blennerhassett, L. zd. ) 



51 

Blenn. Although I cannot tell why, I feel a strange oppres- 
sion on me this evening. {Enter Mrs. Blennerhassett, R. ist. ) 

Blenn. Ah ! my dear, I was wishing for you ; as we near the 
consummation of our grand scheme I grow anxious and depressed. 

Mrs. B. (R. C.) What, at this glad time, when you should 
be so full of life. My dear husband, you must not give way to 
your despondency There is work to do. Why, shame on you, 
your wife is a better soldier than you are. 

Blenn. I cannot repress the recurrence of that fearful dream. 
It still throws its pall about me. Reason as I may I cannot dis- 
pel the vague, uncertain apprehension that Burr will drag us down 
to ruin. 

Mrs. B. This is neither time nor place for such thoughts. 
They are but vagaries — Burr will be here presently, and we must 
greet him pleasantly as becomes the hour. (Exit Mr. and Mrs. 
Blennerhassett^) 

Zekiel Green and Patience come on, (C. fr. R.) Zeke has an immense 
red favor in a bow-knot at his button-hole. Patience is grotesquely 

bedecked in the same color. 

Patience. What would they say, Zekiel, down into old Con- 
necticut, if they could see us neow ? 

Zekiel. Aunt Patience, in addressing me hereafter, be kind 
enough to remember that I am a soldier and a captain. 

Patience. Go along, Zekiel, if you should be a brigadier, 
you would never be anything more to me than the boy I used to 
whollop years ago. 

Zekiel. Aunt Patience, did you really used to whollop me ? 

Patience. I did. 

Zekiel. Then I have a mind to put you under arrest and get 
hunk on yeu for dewing it. 

( Enter Sambo and Paddy, C,f.R., wrangling. Sambo with huge red 
rosette. Paddy with green one.) 

Sam. Take it off, I tell you. What foh you wear dat green 
ribbon ? 



52 

Pad. Phat color would you have me wear, you spalpeen ye ! 

Sam. You don't know noffin at all. Look at all de odder 
gemmin. Look at me. [Strikes attitude. ) 

Pad. Be me sowl, that's the very raison I wore the green. It's 
something British that's going on, so it is, and I wanted them to 
see that a son from the sod was always ready to stand by the 
country where the praties grow. 

Sam. Now look a heah. Its nuffin ob de sort, yah ! yah ! 
You is a Irishman, you is. We's gwine to move down the ribber 
an capture Mexico, dats all ; we's gwine to took de entiah planta- 
tion, an' dey say we can plant some ob Mas' Aaron's gol' dus' and 
raise crops of big gol' money ! Min' what I say, if you don't 
took dat green jigger off and wear one like mine you won't get 
none of it. Ise tell you so. 

Pat. Be jabers, is that the thruth, and will they devide up the 
money when it grows ? 

Sam. Course dey will, course dey will. Everybody what wear 
a red ribbon will get heaps. Dis niggah no fool niggah. Yah, 
yah, Ise wear de ribbon. Look a heah. [Takes red rosette from 
pocket.) You'd better put dis on. 

Pad. An' so 1 will. [Takes ribbon and puis it in place of green 
one.) But be me sowl, if I thought it was British, I'd never be 
afther doin' of a thing like this. [They retire.) 

(Music strikes up. Grand stir. Guests enter. Alice, Mr. and 
Mrs. Blenn. and rest. Burr follows dressed in full. United States 
uniform of ti??ie. Blazing with gold. Barbaric device on breast, 
etc. They all bow to him, C.J 

Burr. [C. ) This is an honor that I deserve as little as I ex- 
pected it. I presume we are among friends. [Looks all around 
and sees the red ribbons.) I am assured of it, and I can continue 
what I was about to say. This is a moment when we should 
think of more serious subjects than the dance, but since it is as it 
is, and since this fete is given in my honor I can not honorably 
conceive any more appropriate manner of heralding the birth of 



the new empire than by watching its glories pictured upon the 
bubbles that float upon the surface o\~ a wine glass, or harkening 
to its prospective noise in the world as born to us on the music 
of a band to-night let our happiness be unalloyed. 

Alice. Sweeping forward. ) Stay, Colonel Burr, the company 
is not yet complete {goes to back and beckons with handkerchief. L. 
of arch door ) 

Burr. (Aside. ) She means mischief. She does not wear the 
ribbon Well, let her do her worst. 

[Enter Nemo, conducting Margaret, C. fr. R. ) 

Alice (/,. C.) Here is one who should share your tri- 
umph, Colonel Burr. 

Burr. (Aside to Alice.) You are in bad company, fair Alice. 
You must play a stronger card to thwart me now. 

Alice. Like a good player I reserve my trumps. 

Burr. What! your one-armed knave ? [Glancing at Nemo ) 

Alice. No, the knave of trumps, you shall see. 

Mar. (Dazed.) Where am I? They told me he was here 
and wished for me — (laughing wildly) — ha, ha, ha ! No, they have 
mocked me, as they always do. He has gone to the wars and I 
shall never see him again. (Sings :) 

O, if ever I were King of France, 

Or much better, Pope of Rome, 
I'd have no fighting men abroad , 

Nor weeping maids at home. 

(Goes roimd to various persons and peers in their faces.) But he 
will come back, won't he? (Peers into Burr s face — he stands un- 
moved. She starts hack, utters a stream.) I said he would ! I 
said he would ! (Throws herself on his breast, sobbing. He pushes 
her off.) 

Burr. Enough of this folly ! Take this poor idiot away ! 

Mar. (L. C.) No, no, no ! Don't send me away from you. 

Alice. (L. C.) Come to me, my poor child ; you might as 
well dash yourself against a stone image so far as his heart is con- 
cerned. That man is stone. (Draws Margaret weeping away.) 
The honor of womanhood will not permit me to allow you to fawn 
upon that man 



54 

Mar. (Piteously extending her arms.) Aaron, Aaron, you will 
not let them separate me from you ? 

Alice. I shall denounce you as a heartless villain. 

Burr. [Composedly, aside to her.) Do so ; you will find your 
effort futile. 

Alice. One and all listen' to me. That poor shattered girl is 
that man's wife. [Pointing to Burr. ) The man you are about to 
follow blindly. Do you not perceive he will but use you for his 
own selfish, cruel ends? You call yourselves men — will you stand 
by and witness his cruelty without condemning him ? (No o?ie 
moves. ) Then you are as cold-hearted and as selfish as he. What 
magic spell binds you to that man ? 

Burr. You perceive, Miss Leighton, you but waste your 
energy. Aaron Burr soars above the storm a jealous woman 
raises 

Alice. You flatter yourself with a false security 

{Roll of drums heard without. _ General commotion. ) 

Burr. What does that mean ? 

Alice. It means retribution ! 

(File of soldiers appear at back. ) 

(Enter Gem I Wilkinson. C. fr. R.) 

Burr. (Aside) Without the ribbon ! (To Wilkinson.) Speak 
sir. What does this mean. There is treason here ! 

Gen. (R. C.) There is. (Aloud.) Colonel Burr, I arrest 
you for high treason ! 

Burr. I am betrayed by a worthless dog — your charge is false 
sir ! What proof have you ? 

Gen. This letter. (Hands cypher letter?) 

Burr. I know knothing of it. It is in cypher. 

Alice. (L. ) Perhaps Colonel Burr would like to have the 
key. (Shozving key to cypher.) 

Burr. Zounds, how did you get that ! (Recollecting himself.) 
You trifle, you are deceived, this letter was not written by me. 

Alice. 'Tis false. 



55 

Burr. I dislike to Contradict you, fair lady, but you know my 
hand ; pray glance at that. 

Alice. ( Takes Idler hastily. ) He is right. It is not his writ- 
ing. Have I been premature ! Have 1 been played upon ? 

Burr. You have overreached yourself, my fair antagonist. 
Try again. Come, let the 1 all go on. 

Nemo. Not ^u fast, not so fast ! That is indeed a copy, but 
here is the original. {Holds up paper. Alice snatches it from Iil/u.) 

Alice. Perhaps you will deny this, too. 

Burr. {Seeking to take it. Sin holds it away.) You are wel- 
come to your victory, I can still afford to despise your duplicity. 

Gen. [Holding letter.) Is that your writing ? 

Burr. Do your duty ; I have nothing to say ; my country 
will acquit me, and still revere the name of Aaron Burr. 

Nemo. Not so ; you shall not live to baffle the meshes of 
the law. Look in my face ; do you read the secret of my hatred 
there ? 

Burr. [Agitated.) Who are you? 

Nemo. Ask your culprit soul that question, and it will answer — 
Hamilton and Margaret's avenger! {Brows knife, and rushes upon 
Burr. Margaret, who has stealthily come down behind him, clings 
to his arm. ) 

Nemo. {Struggling. ) Let go, girl ! You are mad, and know 
not what you do. {In the straggle Margaret is slabbed, and falls 
mortally wounded. C.) 

Nemo. Poor, poor Margaret, speak to me but one word ere you 
die. Oh, God ! I have killed you ! But I shall follow thee even 
in death. {Seizes knife, and stabs himself . Falls, L. C.) 

Burr. {R. C. Looking at Margaret's form.) I am sorry that 
when the eagle is snared the doVe should likewise fall. ( Then glanc- 
ing at Nemo's body. ) As for the dog, 'tis well that he should die ; 
he has had his day. {To Alice.) You may enjoy your triumph, 
most beautiful lady, and I have but to regret that my indifference 
to your charms has made you so potent an enemy. {Aliee starts 
and shudders with suppressed rage and shame. Burr turns to his 
followers. ) To you, good and brave men, in this hour of appar- 



56 



ent gloom, when the star of empire seems paled by a rushlight, 
I give my thanks ; you have been loyal, and I am sure would 
have remained so at the extreme moment. The hands of the 
clock are stopped — but the hour will yet strike. {To Wilkinson.) 
If you could attain to the height of my scorn, I would express it. 
To be a traitor to your country is to be a traitor only when the 
alleged treason falls short of fruition. To be a traitor to a fellow 
man, and a friend, is certainly the most despicable of dishonor- 
able acts. You are honored, si, by having within the small com- 
pass of your being the province of arresting Colonel Burr. That 
duty will gild your name for all time. You are the mean asso- 
ciate of greatness fallen — though that greatness still remains. 
The sun shines upon the refuse of the barn yard — so will to-day's 
treachery illumine your name. I am ready, let us go. 

CURTAIN. 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 

III II! Ill II I II UN I! I! 

015 973 471 7 q 




